Late Nights Spent Talking
by LauriNicole
Summary: Sam and Freddie spend a cold night on the fire escape. Emotions are revealed and confessions are told. Maybe things aren't so bad after all... Post iGoodbye.


She took a long, uncertain look at the exit.

He had to be out there.

Sam raised a hand to tap softly on the glass. She didn't wait for an invitation before sliding the door open and climbing out into the icy darkness, the Seattle wind nipping at her bare arms.

Freddie twisted around to glance at her from a foldable chair, an unreadable expression fixed on his features. She took notice of how the dim lighting from inside the apartment building was reflected off of his eyes.

"How'd you know I was out here?" He asked. His voice was soft, and she knew instantly he was trying frantically to keep himself together. His eyes shone with unshed tears.

"I didn't, but it was the last place I could think of to look." She stopped for a moment and observed his expression. "You're still crying over Carly leaving?" Sam asked quietly, her usual bitter tone almost pleasant. She leaned her weight against the rusted metal railing surrounding the fire escape, her back to the city below.

"Sam, she was our best friend. Don't tell me you're not upset."

She shrugged, unsure of how to answer.

"Well, yeah, I guess. I have to admit, I'm surprised you haven't dropped over dead yet- you know, because she was everything to you. I didn't think it was possible for you to last twenty four hours without her, I'm impressed."

"Are you jealous?"

The words tumbled out of Freddie's mouth so casually that Sam wasn't quite sure if she had heard him correctly.

"What?" She choked out, her gaze suddenly defensive. A harsh gust of wind rattled the metal beneath her feet.

"You heard me." Freddie crossed his arms over his chest, his stare insistent.

Sam scoffed, but tore her eyes away and focused on the wall behind him. She grimaced.

"No, that's gross."

Freddie rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her. "Well, if you're 'not jealous'", he paused for a moment to make air quotes with his hands, "What's your problem?"

Sam took a step forward, hardly able to bite back the urge to turn his face black and blue. "Listen, Benson, I don't know when you became such a bitch-"

"Sam, stop."

She opened her mouth to continue anyhow, but decided against it. She huffed.

"Fine, I'll 'stop'", she mimicked, "But I'm not jealous- I don't know why you think I would be. Maybe you are experiencing post-Carly disorder."

"Um, Sam -"

"Don't interrupt me," She sneered. "You've been all over Carly for months now. I thought you were over her, and nowadays, it's like Cupid shot an arrow through your ass."

Freddie sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair, and she couldn't help but admire that his hair was kind of attractive messy. She quickly pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

"I am over her, Sam. I love the girl, but not 'like that'."

Sam bit her lower lip, a range of emotions weighing down on her. Her chest felt heavy. "Tell me then- why'd you kiss her?"

His eyes widened slightly. "She told you?"

"Yes, Freddie, she told me. I'm so sorry if you wanted it to be your guys' little secret."

Freddie raised his hands in exasperation. "It didn't even mean anything. She kissed _me_!"

Sam brushed a stray stand of hair away from her eyes. "You kissed her back."

Freddie rose from his chair and stood in front of her, his irritation evident. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but decided against the action and awkwardly retreated his arm back to his side.

"We were saying goodbye, Sam."

"You wouldn't have kissed me had I left."

Freddie's face flushed a soft shade of pink, and he was thankful the sun had set a long while earlier. He chuckled uncomfortably, his voice an octave higher than what it should have been.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Uh- You know what? I just heard my mom calling me. I better go-"

Sam grasped the collar of his shirt and tugged him towards her. "You are going nowhere, you understand?"

He swallowed; his mouth dry. "Good to know."

She shoved him backwards, and he was surprisingly relieved when he didn't topple over the railing.

He regained his posture and gracelessly rubbed his neck. "Thanks for not killing me."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think I'd enjoy seeing your flattened body that much."

"Am I finally growing on you?"

"Shut up, dork." She dragged a chair in the corner of the balcony close to his and stretched her legs out in front of her.

She pointed. "Sit."

His butt hadn't even touched the seat before she threw her legs across his lap.

He shook his head, "Really, Sam?"

She shrugged. "Would you expect any different?"

He grinned, "Of course not."

She wasn't sure how long they sat there, on the eighth floor of the fire escape, silence broken only by the buzz of city life, the stars barely visible through the smog that encased the city, but she was beginning to drift off into sleep when Freddie spoke.

"Yes."

She blinked a few times in confusion. "Huh?"

His voice was quiet and almost timid, and he stared out at the buildings that were illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. "Yes, I want to get back together with you."

Sam nodded, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on her shirt. She cast her eyes downwards. "Oh."

He gathered up the courage to look at her, "Now what?"

She didn't reply, and he would have thought she was ignoring him completely had he not caught the soft shrug of her shoulders.

"Come on, say something," He urged.

She bit back a smile, but didn't raise her head.

"Am I a nerd?"

Sam gave up trying to hold back her amusement. She laughed quietly, but rolled her eyes all the same. "You're unbelievably lame."

He grinned, realizing just how contagious her happiness was. "Believe me; you've made me and everyone else in the country well aware of that fact."

"I try." She gave him a pointed look.

"What?"

"I'm hungry. Your mom isn't home, is she?"

Freddie groaned. "Sam, you've eaten at least six hundred dollars' worth of our food in the past month."

"Answer the question, boy."

"No, she won't be home until five in the morning."

"Perfect. Come on, we don't need you to freeze."

"You just want me to show you where I hid the good food."

Sam smirked. "Nah, I can find that on my own. You're there to be my personal chef."

He had his hand on the door handle when Sam spoke again.

"Oh, and Freddie?"

"What?"

"Yes."

He stiffened for a moment, and then turned to face her.

"You want to get back together with me, too?"

She smirked. "Yes, you're a nerd," His face fell, and she almost felt bad. "But I suppose being your girlfriend again wouldn't be _too_ horrible."

She had never seen him look happier.


End file.
